


Know Your Enemy

by Zanganito



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Bad Parent Talia al Ghul, Bat Family, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Cookies, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson-centric, Fluff and Humor, Games, Gen, Humor, Interrogation, Jason Todd Has Issues, Pizza, Timeline What Timeline, Video & Computer Games, bat training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanganito/pseuds/Zanganito
Summary: A game of capture the flag is serious business.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	Know Your Enemy

The cookies were a trap. Dick knew this, intellectually, as he climbed the side of the manor and silently slipped in through a second story window. It still didn’t make them smell any less tempting – a heavenly combination of sugar, butter, and chocolate that only Alfred could perfect. Well, Alfred and maybe sometimes a few select others who had been fortunate enough to be granted access to his recipe cards. The smell continued to waft down the hall as Dick searched the first room, trying his best to concentrate. Nothing. He knew those cookies would be his undoing.

  
The temptation was growing as he picked the lock on the next door, pausing briefly to listen for footsteps nearby. Perhaps he could afford fifteen minutes or so to sneak a few cookies. After all, he had just finished his shift at Bludhaven PD, and he, Bruce, and Stephanie had twelve hours to find Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian’s flag (Duke had opted out when he learned that the game allowed for minor injury, and proclaimed that they were all nuts). But yeah, a cookie break might work right now. His stomach gurgled in agreement. Even though it was almost guaranteed his brothers would be lying in wait near the kitchen. They knew him well, and weren’t above playing dirty to win. But almost falling for their trap, or pretending to almost fall for their trap would only make the game more exciting. At least, that’s what Dick told himself as he pulled his ski mask back on and crept towards the stairs.

It was quiet, almost too quiet as he made his way towards the kitchen. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in the oppressive silence. Would they wait until after he’d eaten to try and spring their trap? It’d be cruel to intercept him before he even had a chance to grab a cookie. Would Alfred even let them set their traps in his kitchen? He would not. Of course, Alfred had the night off, but still, Dick expected his brothers to have a healthy fear of causing mayhem in the kitchen, at least for the first hour or so.  
Dick closed the last few meters to the kitchen with growing confidence, and anticipation of his after-work snack. He’d pour himself a glass of milk, have a handful of cookies, then –

Suddenly his foot was yanked out from under him, and pulled towards the ceiling. Damian’s snare had blended in with the carpet. Dick hung upside down for a few seconds, and watched as Damian emerged from the shadows behind the stairs.

“Grayson, how disappointing that you managed to be captured so early in the game.” Damian glared up at him, arms folded against his chest. 

Dick laughed, then doubled up and started working on the knot around his ankle. “Hey, I was hungry.”

Damian sniffed dismissively. “Your lack of willpower is troubling.”

Dick released his ankle, and swung on the rope. “You still have to catch me,” he teased, using the momentum from the swinging rope to drop down closer to the kitchen.

Damian drew his Katana. Fortunately, they had all agreed to use unsharpened weapons for the exercise.   
Dick darted towards the kitchen, nimbly jumping over one more snare on the way.

“Grayson! Face me and fight!” Damian raged behind him.

Dick vaulted over a chair, and managed to snatch one cookie from the plate on the counter before jumping on the table to avoid a swing from Damian’s blade. Chocolate chip. He took a bite, sighing as the chocolate melted on his tongue, then glanced around the kitchen. A dirty mixing bowl sat in the sink. Frosting was smudged on the counter. “Aww, little D, you made me cookies!”

Damian scowled up at him. “Drake insisted on having bait in the kitchen.”

“Aw, and there’s two different kinds too!” Dick leaped down, darted across the kitchen, and picked up one of the frosted sugar cookies and shoved it in his mouth. 

Damian swung at him again, leaving Dick with no choice but to climb onto the stove. From there, he leaped out and grabbed the light fixture - he felt it give as he finished his swing, and landed on the top of the refrigerator. Alfred was going to murder them all when this was over. Politely though, and not anywhere that would leave blood stains.

Tim arrived to block one of the extis armed with his bo-staff, so Dick made the best of the situation and doubled back to the plate of cookies to take another chocolate chip one, and jump-climbed up onto the top of the cabinets.  
“Grayson, this is a serious training exercise, not Kitchen-Parkour!” Damian raged, whacking his arm with the Katana as he passed. “Draw your weapons and fight.”

“Can’t I just surrender in exchange for milk and ice cream?” Dick asked through a mouthful of crumbs and chocolate.  
  
Damian frowned and crossed his arms. “That’s not realistic.”

“Maybe you should try baking cookies next time Poison Ivy is on a rampage. You might be surprised. Try making vegan flower shaped cookies. I’m sure that’d do the trick.”

“Ttt. Besides, it took more than two hours and all four of us to make those. It’s not a practical strategy.”

“Aww, I feel so special,” Dick said while swiping another frosted sugar cookie from the counter. He tried to imagine the image of Tim, Damian, Jason and Cass joining forces to make bait cookies. It was too adorable for words. He’d have to hack the cameras later, assuming Tim didn’t disable them for the whole evening.

Damian just scowled and hacked at the cabinet, knocking over a few plates that clattered to the floor.

Maybe it was time to take the fight somewhere with fewer breakable items, if he wanted Alfred to forgive them later. Dick opened the window over the sink, and jumped outside.

\--

Rain had begun to lightly fall outside as Dick landed on the gravel below. He could hear Tim and Damian clamoring to follow him, and he turned back to laugh as they paused in the window, struggling and fighting over who exited first. Damian won, and dramatically supervised as Tim jumped out.

Tim tripped on a root and promptly fell into Alfred’s rose bushes, and Dick headed for the tree-line as Damian berated Tim for his clumsiness. 

Dick narrowly avoided Cass’ pit trap hidden next to a large willow tree, falling face first into the mud as he leaned back and over-compensated. He dragged himself up, and peered over the edge. “Are those stakes? They look kind of dangerous.”

“Unsharpened,” Cass said, emerging from the shadows.

“Yeah, but they still look kind of pointy,” Dick said. “And painful.”

Cass shrugged.

His sister was definitely the scariest of his siblings, Dick decided, as he ran back towards the manor, heading for the side farthest away from Damian and Tim.

  
\--  
Thirty minutes later, Damian, Cass and Tim dragged him back inside, dripping mud and water. They trudged in, squelching dirty bootprints across Alfred’s clean floor. Tim and Damian each hung from one arm, and Cass supervised.

“I don’t know about you, but I really worked up an appetite out there,” Dick said. “Since I’m your prisoner you have to feed me. I’m not picky. We could eat the rest of the cookies, have a bowl of cereal, or order pizza.”

“Prisoners shouldn’t be demanding food. They should be groveling at the feet of their captors with gratitude for having their miserable lives spared,” Damian proclaimed.

“Um, this is a game, Damian,” Tim pointed out.

“Yes, but in the version I played with Grandfather, there was only defeating your enemy. We never took prisoners.”  
Dick just laughed. “Then this is a good learning experience, Little D. Go over how to safely care for any prisoners.”

“Well, we can’t give you cookies anyway, Jason is eating them all,” Tim said, giving Jason a death glare that would make Killer Croc nervous.

Jason lounged in the kitchen, leaning against a countertop and finishing up the plate of cookies. The bait cookies that had been specifically bakes for Dick. “You caught him already?” the shameless cookie thief asked through a moth filled with sugar and chocolate.  
“Yes, and he is demanding that we feed him. Is that required for a prisoner?” Damian asked.  
Jason looked at Dick and smirked a nasty smile full of stolen crumbs. “Eventually, yeah, but it’s not like he’ll starve in a few hours.”

“Well, not providing food would make things easier,” Tim mused. “Logistically speaking.”

“Hey, no, are you going to let me starve for twelve hours?” Dick sputtered, leaning forward out of Tim and Damian’s hold “Don’t you think it would be better if Tim and Dami learn how to properly care for a prisoner? This is supposed to be a learning experience, not easy.”

Jason shrugged and took out a roll of duct tape from his pocket. “Or we could do what I usually do.” He tore off a generous piece of tape.

“Hey!” Dick shouted as soon as he realized what Jason was up to. “That’s not-mph!”  
“There,” Jason said, smoothing out the duct tape across Dick’s mouth. “He’s a lot less trouble if he can’t talk.”

Damian folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly are we supposed to interrogate the prisoner if he can’t talk, Todd?”

“You leave it on until he agrees to give you the information you want,” Jason explained.

“Perhaps that is acceptable,” Damian said with an uncertain glance at Dick.

Tim stared at the duct tape dubiously. “What if something happens and he suffocates?”

Dick made angry agreeing noises.

“What if he has to use the bathroom and can’t tell us?” Damian demanded. “Obviously Drake will have to clean up the mess, but this method seems more trouble than it is worth.”

“What if he gets food poisoning from the cookies?” Tim continued. “What if he gets a spontaneous nosebleed and asphyxiates?”

Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, do whatever you want with him. You know he’s going to talk his way into you two letting him escape.”

“That will not happen,” Damian said, clinging to Dick’s arm. “First, Drake and I will interrogate the prisoner. Then he will instruct me in how to defeat Drake in Mortal Combat.”

“Video games? Whatever. I’ll be setting up some more traps for Bruce,” Jason growled while stomping off into the Manor.  
Cass slunk off to lie in wait for Stephanie.

  
-

Dick was marched upstairs to Damian’s room, and securely tied to a chair. 

Tim carefully peeled the duct tape off, and Dick tried not to grimace as Tim’s slow careful pulling probably removed more of his skin.

“Drake!” Damian snapped, reaching a hand up to help. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you, it needs to be removed quickly, like this.” He yanked at the duct tape, ripping the rest of it free.

“Ow,” Dick whined as soon as the tape was free.

Tim folded his arms and looked exasperated. “Well excuse me for trying to be careful. Duct tape is sticky.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “You were too slow, and causing Grays- the prisoner needless pain.”

“You both did great,” Dick interrupted before Tim and Damian could break whatever truce they had negotiated this time and start feuding again.

Damian huffed. “Yes. Anyway, it is Todd’s fault we ended up with this problem.”

Dick shifted in the chair and tried his bonds; they were impressively good. “Hey good job on the ropes, I think it might take me a while to escape,” he said, wriggling around. Then his stomach grumbled. “Now about feeding me, we could order pizza. I want pineapple with andouille, and mushroom with olives is good too. Any kind really. You could order veggie pizza if you want, Dami.”

Damian frowned, and stood with his hands on his hips and with what was probably supposed to be a menacing scowl. “You will be fed only after you divulge Father’s whereabouts and plans, Grayson.” 

“But Dami-“ Dick whined. When had his youngest brothers become soulless interrogators? “I’m hungry.”

“You can inform Drake what you would like on your pizza after you provide us with information on father’s whereabouts.”

“Aw, but it’s harder to think with low blood sugar.” Dick pouted in a way that almost always made his captors relent and feed him. And he had a lot of experience being kidnapped.

“Perhaps the prisoner has a point.” Damian stood up and turned to Tim. “Drake, order pizzas. We can withhold the food until the prisoner talks.” He cautiously untied one of Dick’s hands and thrust a video game controller into it. “While we wait for the pizzas, you will instruct me how to beat Drake in video games.”

Dick flexed some feeling into his hand and smiled at Tim and Damian. “Sure thing, kiddo. But I also taught Tim, so no promises that you’ll be able to beat him.” 

  
\--  
Twenty minutes later, Dick decided that his brothers were indeed the embodiment of evil. Damian had become frustrated with the video game, and took out his anger by tying Dick’s hand back to the chair and announcing that “frivolities were over.”

Then the pizza arrived, greasy goodness oozing cheese and sauce onto thin cardboard. Dick’s mouth watered as Damian helped himself to a slice of veggie pizza, and Tim had a piece of olive and mushroom. (They hadn’t ordered the pineapple andouille pizza, much to Dick’s disappointment.)

“Dami, I’m hungry,” Dick whined as his stomach rumbled.

“Prisoners can eat after they talk,” Damian proclaimed through a mouthful of sauce and cheese. “Where is Father, and where is the location of your team’s flag?”

Dick sighed dramatically. Evil, the epitome of evil. “If you two ever join forces and become villains, you’ll put Lex Luthor out of business.” He pouted and started working on the ropes for real this time. “C’mon, one piece of pizza so I don’t starve? Please?”  
Damian folded his arms and stepped closer. “Father’s location, Grayson.”  
Dick sighed dramatically as he worked on the ropes at his wrists. “Bruce didn’t tell me where he’d be.” And it was true. 

Damian scoffed. “Pitiful. I almost believe you.”

“Yeah, Bruce probably didn’t tell him anything,” Tim agreed. “He knows Dick would tell us.”

“Hey,” Dick protested, “He was just busy and I was working in Bludhaven the past week. That’s why we didn’t coordinate.”

“Suuure, that’s the reason,” Tim said with a look of pure evil malice as he bit into another slice of pizza.

“Fine, if we agree that Grayson likely knows nothing, then he is a useless prisoner.” Damian sighed. “Grayson, as much as it pains me to admit this, we have no choice but to remove you from the game permanently.”

“Permanently? Is that an option?” Tim asked. “How would that even work?”

“Simple. We add chains on top of the ropes, and put the chair in a locked closet. It will take Grayson long enough to escape for us to do other things.”

“But you’re going to feed me first, right? Right?”

\--

His brothers did not feed him before placing him in the closet, and they didn’t leave the light on either, Dick reflected grumpily as he worked on loosening his bonds in the dark. He was totally going to eat all of Tim and Damian’s favorite snacks when he escaped just to get even. Though, he wasn’t even sure if Tim had a favorite snack. Maybe he should just settle for finishing their pizzas. And all the ice cream in the freezer.

As he finally worked one of the knots loose, Dick heard shrieking and giggles from the other room that was probably Stephanie being caught.

It was eerily quiet again when Dick finally untangled himself from the chair. He stood up only to step on Damian’s jacks that had been left on the floor (he had been suspiciously agreeable when learning to play jacks, now Dick knew it was because Damian saw them as pointy weapons.) He cursed loudly and thumped against the door in the dark. Fortunately, Tim and Damian hadn’t searched his hair for bobby pins, and picking the lock was easy.

Dick wasted no time, and headed straight for the kitchen. It was fortunately empty, the others were probably either interrogating Stephanie or setting up more traps for Bruce. The pizza was on the countertop, and had just started to cool, but the cheese was still gooey, and Dick hummed in contentment as he finished both boxes. A pint of ice cream later, and he decided he could rejoin the game again. 

He was scaling the outside of the stairs, mountain climbing style, when he felt a searing burning pain in his upper thigh. Dick grabbed the railing and hauled himself over, narrowly avoiding falling as his leg gave out from under him. He rolled over in pain clutching his leg, and scowled down at Jason at the bottom of the stairs, smirking insufferably and holding a gun. “Jason, you shot me!” Dick groaned and dramatically held his leg.

“I used rubber bullets.”

Dick made a loud whining sound and clutched his leg. “I might not be able to walk limp-free for a week.”  
  
“Whatever,” Jason said and grabbed Dick’s other leg and started dragging him through the manor. “I’ll have Cass guard you this time. I knew Tim and Demon Brat would let you go.”

“Hey, I escaped on my own,” Dick said, trying futilely to kick Jason with his injured leg. Damn, Jason must have hit a pressure point.

There was a ruckus up ahead, and Dick lifted himself up to get a better look. Tim and Damian had snared Bruce this time, and he hung upside down looking surprised.

“Father!” Damian shouted. “You managed to get trapped even faster than Grayson, and he was distracted by his weakness for food. Explain yourself.”

“Um,” Bruce said, looking sheepish. “Aren’t you two a little early? I haven’t even hidden the flag yet.” Bruce pulled the flag out of his pocket.

Damian looked nearly apoplectic. “Father, how could you be so forgetful! Nevermind. We win.” Then Damian stomped off angrily.

Dick sighed and yanked his foot out of Jason’s grasp. “You heard him, the game is over,” he grumbled, wincing as he tried to stand.

Jason laughed evilly, then walked over to join Tim in a game of ‘see how much Bruce will be willing to pay to be let down.’

\--

Dick limped up to Damian’s room, and knocked quietly at the door.

“Go away,” Damian shouted from inside.

“But Dami, I just wanted to congratulate you,” Dick said.

There was some shuffling from inside, then Damian yanked the door open. “Well, Grayson?” he sneered “Have you come to grovel and acknowledge my superior skills?”

Dick rolled his eyes. Damian was especially impossible when he was hurt. “No, I just wanted to say good game. And even if Bruce hadn’t gotten the day wrong, your team totally would have won.”

Damian sniffed and folded his arms. “Father obviously has more important things to worry himself with than frivolous games.”

“Yes, but it’s important to you.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed as he took in the way Dick was leaning against the doorframe for support. “What happened to you, Grayson? Were you injured?”

“Jason shot me in the leg with a rubber bullet. I’ll be fine in a little while. But thanks for caring, kiddo.” Dick reached over to ruffle Damian’s hair.

Damian made an angry kitten noise and straightened his hair. “I was merely concerned that it might affect the team when we go out on patrol. Nothing more.”

“Of course. Hey did you want to pick up where we left off on the video game?”

“Very well,” Damian said. “We can continue practicing video games and finish the pizza.”

Dick awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, haha, I already ate the rest of the pizza. But we could eat something else.”

“Grayson, you are incorrigible,” Damian said. But he did have the smallest smile on the edge of his mouth as turned to ready the video game.

Tim and Stephanie joined them a few minutes later with bowls of popcorn. (And Tim used Bruce’s credit card to order 15 more pizzas). Cass slipped in with pints of ice cream, and even Jason turned up with a few bags of candy as a peace offering.  
And as they all piled onto Damian’s bed and playfully fought over food and video game controllers, Dick decided that it was a perfect way to end the evening.

\--

And when Alfred came back the next morning, they all spent the day cleaning and repairing the kitchen until it was spotless.


End file.
